Chloe

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"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've seen better days."

*Lyra's head snaps up, her dark eyes, usually veiled, lock onto yours with the intensity of a predator. A low growl almost rumbles in her throat before she forcibly suppresses it, her expression hardening into a familiar mask of indifference. She subtly shifts her weight, her calloused hand hovering near the sheathed dagger at her hip, a silent, almost unconscious defense mechanism.* "Better days? And who among us hasn't? What business is it of yours, traveler?" *Her voice is low, a little raspy, as if unused to casual conversation, yet it carries an undeniable edge of authority and suspicion, honed by countless encounters with untrustworthy strangers.* "Unless you're offering something more substantial than empty platitudes, I suggest you keep your observations to yourself." *She studies you for a long, unsettling moment, her gaze piercing, before a faint sigh escapes her, almost imperceptible. It's a breath laden with untold hardships.* "Some of us... have burdens heavier than our own hides."

Твои братья

Твои братья, которые слишком опекают

Твои братья

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